


the curious case of charlie kelly

by bi_tlejuice



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Boys In Love, Coming Out, M/M, Requited Love, Trans Charlie Kelly, Trans Male Character, but loves charlie anyway, charlie kelly IS a trans man and you cannot convince me otherwise, mac is really stupid, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_tlejuice/pseuds/bi_tlejuice
Summary: something is different about charlie. mac's never quite able to put his finger on it, but whatever. charlie's a weird kid, but he's his best friend and he kind of loves him a lot.or, 4 times mac doesn't get what's going on and the 1 time charlie tells him.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly & Mac McDonald, Charlie Kelly/Mac McDonald
Comments: 12
Kudos: 177





	the curious case of charlie kelly

**Author's Note:**

> warning for a lil internalised homophobia and use of the t slur and f slur!

**1.** The first time Mac doesn't quite get it isn't really his fault. They're thirteen, no matter how much Charlie claims he's _nearly_ fourteen, and it's approximately seven million degrees during the last week of school before summer break. Because grade 7 is the best grade you can ever possibly be in, with life steadily going downhill from that point onward, their homeroom teacher declares it too hot to sit inside and plans a day trip to the local pool. Mac has never been this pumped about something organised by the school in his _life_ , and he's assuming Charlie feels the same. That's why when the teacher announces it, his first step is to pull Charlie out of the hallway rush towards his locker so they can make a game plan revolving around how to achieve maximum fun.

But, instead of the overbearing excitement Mac's feeling in his chest, Charlie pointedly stares at the floor and just shrugs. "I dunno, dude. Don't really like swimming that much."

"What? No dude, it's like, the coolest! Plus, there'll be like, girls in bikinis there- like, _high-school_ girls!" he insists, because come _on,_ high-school girls in bathing suits are supposed to be their dream come true. Charlie shrugs again, shuffles his feet around slightly. It's weird - normally, Mac would expect this response to be paired with Charlie's infamous Disinterested Face, as he's generally not interested in any normal human being interests. Instead, there's something else there. Mac's not sure what it is, but the way Charlie's eyebrows are knitted together and he won't meet his eye is kind of weird, in a bad way.

"I should probably get to class," he says, even though it's math class and the only class he doesn't have with Mac, meaning he skips it pretty much without fail and has done all year. Before he can question him, though, he's gone, disappearing into the buzz of the hallway (in the opposite direction of his math class, by the way) and leaving Mac not quite sure where he went wrong. 

However. If Mac is anything, it's certainly _not_ a quitter, so when they're lying in the grass in Mac's back yard with their feet in a wash-up tub of cold water, he tries again. "Dude," he starts, because Charlie _did_ skip math to huff glue in the toilets (see **unfair:** Mac totally would've skipped as well if he'd known Charlie was doing that) and when he's kind of waved you have to make sure you have his attention before you start talking. "Isn't this water like, cooling you down 'n shit? It's so nice." Charlie grunts noncommittally from where Mac's t-shirt is on his face to block out the sun. Sweat is pooling on his chest, but he's made no move to take his shirt off. "Y'know going to the pool tomorrow would be like, like this, but so much better. It's s'posed to be even hotter tomorrow, and- Charlie?" he pauses, because Charlie's stopped listening in favour of rolling over and covering his ears with his hands. Normally, Mac'll talk until the world ends, but Charlie does this at school when he's overwhelmed or when they're in the disabled toilet huffing glue and the mean kids try and kick the door down, so he stops. 

"Charlie?" he asks again, sitting up and trying his hardest to make sure he's using his quiet voice. Unsurprisingly, the back of Charlie's t-shirt is nearly completely see-through from sweat, and obviously Mac isn't going to reach forward and check, but it kind of looks like Charlie has _another_ top on underneath, which must be like, super bad for him in this kind of heat. "Dude, if you don't wanna go _that_ bad, we don't have to."

Charlie doesn't move - he's still, weirdly still, like his breaths are too tiny to even reach his chest - and for a moment Mac thinks he might have passed out, but then he sniffs into the crook of his elbow. "Please can we just skip?" he asks, and his voice sounds all small and quiet and kind of wobbly, and Mac _hates_ it, much more than he hates the idea of not going to the pool. 

"'course, dude," he says, then, "wait here a sec?" because Charlie's probably going to get heatstroke but he kind of freaks out sometimes when Mac touches him without asking, so he can't just roll him into the shade.

When he comes back with the singed sun-umbrella they stole from the dollar store last year and two cheap ice creams, Charlie sits up and holds one of them to his head. Soft red rimmed eyes still refuse to meet Mac's, but he doesn't really mind that much. Sometimes, Mac gets super mad about his dad - he doesn't cry or anything, obviously, he's not a pussy - and doesn't wanna talk about it, but hanging out with Charlie makes him feel better. Maybe this is just one of those things. So he doesn't ask, just sits under the half-burnt side of the umbrella with the sun on his calves and bumps their shoulders together. 

And yeah, maybe he's kind of bummed to not be at the pool the next afternoon, when it's _eight_ million degrees and all they're doing is trying to throw rocks into cups, but maybe the look on Charlie's face is worth it.

 **2.** The second time Mac doesn't get it, he's too busy nursing a broken nose to remember there's something he's supposed to be getting. See, he didn't mean to _steal_ the bike, he was really only _borrowing_ it; this guy knocked on the door and said he knew Mac's dad, and that if Mac went and delivered this small package to someone who lived a couple of blocks away, they'd give him a hundred dollars. As a barely-fifteen year old, there's not anywhere nearby in Philly that wants to give a job to someone like him- and besides, fuck that. A hundred dollars is a hundred dollars, so he's gonna do it. It's just- someone left a bike really loosely chained to the lamppost on the corner of his street, like they _wanted_ it to be used, so he did the obvious thing.

He even put it back when it was finished. Okay, _maybe_ he scratched some of the paint off of it when he was super quickly trying to put the chain on, but then Charlie texted him about some cat doing something and he promptly forgot about the bike. 

That's why, when the _really_ scary kids shout at them from across the street, his first instinct isn't to run, because he can't remember having done anything to piss them off. Charlie kind of looks like he's about to shit himself, and Mac kind of wants to grab his hand, but he's not gay and he also doesn't want to be smacked for acting like a fag in front of these guys, so he just waits for them to cross the street. When they're too close to run away, Mac sees one of them wheeling the bike. 

"Did you fucking touch my bike, you dirty fag?" he hisses, and he sounds really quite mad and Mac backs up slightly, only one of them leans forward and grabs the collar of his t-shirt. "I'll kick your skull in." Before Mac can try and reason his way out of this, maybe offer up a gram of weed to distract them, a ringed fist connects solidly with his cheekbone. Someone's holding him back by the arms by the time his vision stops ringing, but he doesn't need his hands to feel the cut on his cheek ooze blood. There's a knee to his stomach and a couple of mean-spirited laughs, and he vaguely thinks about how this is kind of the opposite vibe of his ideal Saturday. "Someone fucking grab the dirtgrub," the guy with the bike says, and Mac kind of wants to tell Charlie to run, but he also kind of wants Charlie to help him so he settles with saying nothing.

"I'm not touching _that_ , man," some other guy says, and Mac thinks he sees Charlie's fists tighten, but then there's another fist to his nose. 

"It's just some faggy kid."

"No dude, look at it," the guy is insisting, "it's like- what, are you a tr-"

Charlie headbutts the guy in the nose at full force, kicking hard him in the leg when he falls down and does not get back up. Using the slack created by surprise, Mac wiggles out of the other guy's grip, swings his elbow round into his face and then grabs Charlie's sleeve and runs. One of them grabs Mac's arm, kicks him down onto the floor and throws their fist into Charlie's face. Mac yanks them down by their belt-loops and knees them in the stomach as hard as he can, before letting Charlie yank him up and not letting go of his hand. There's shouts behind them and the menacing sound of sneakers echoing off the sidewalk, but whilst the big kids might be bigger, the pair of them are definitely faster. So they run, keep running even when whoever's behind them gives up, keep running until they're out of the 'burbs and through the abandoned warehouses, only stopping when Charlie drops to his knees.

After a minute of deranged hyperventilating, they meet eyes - Mac with his bloody nose and black eye, Charlie with an enormous bump at the top of his forehead and a split lip for some reason - and both start laughing as hard as they can. Later, Mac thinks that this is what it's like to be free; completely free, both in the physical sense of escaping but also in the way that right now, laughing like two stupid fools, he feels so awesomely alive. But that's later, and this is now, and now is Charlie wiping the blood off of Mac's face with his own shirt sleeve and still laughing.

"Dude, why'd you take his bike? Y'didn't even _keep_ it!" and it's not even funny but they're both losing their fucking minds. Mac's stomach jumps in an excited way when Charlie slumps forward, face balanced between his shoulder blades and keeps laughing. Wordlessly and mostly because every time he tries to speak he starts giggling again, Mac digs the hundred out of his jeans pockets and passes it over his shoulder. "Oh _, fuck_ , dude!"

"Yeah man, you wanna split it? Feel like they would've taken it if you hadn't like, swooped in there, y'know." He spins around, looks at Charlie holding the money. Thinks about all of those weird medical bills pinned up in Charlie's kitchen (they all had weird shit and words he didn't understand, but they said Ms Kelly on them, and he could hardly go prying about Charlie's mom's weird illness or whatever) and how little food they've had recently, and closes his fist around the money in Charlie's hand. "This is your half, dude."

So technically, the profit from being punched ended up being $0. But then Charlie grins, manically but it's amazing anyway, and says "Maybe, but your sweet karate moves would've sorted them out if I hadn't," as if he knows it's exactly what Mac wants to hear. This is what makes Mac realise that he'd rather have the shit kicked out of him and be none the richer than ever see Charlie sad.

 **3.** In fact, it's the sadness of Charlie Kelly that surfaces when he turns twenty that realistically distracts Mac from noticing what is physically wrong. They've just bought the bar, completely broke as shit and getting used to having Dennis around _constantly_ rather than in highschool whenever he felt like siphoning free weed off of Mac or glue from Charlie. And yeah, Mac has to admit he's pretty cool, but for some reason Charlie doesn't seem quite there yet - he's not rude, or anything like that, because Charlie's only really rude when he's defending himself (or Mac,) but he's a little bit off. Not comfortable, for whatever reason.

And once a month, he's just really fucking sad.

Mac's not sure whether he's missing something blatantly obvious, but it _seems_ like the last week of every month, Charlie's really depressed - the bar doesn't get cleaned as much, for starters, because Charlie doesn't really come in to work. It's just- normally, when he's slacking off for whatever reason, Dennis rips into him, and he kicks off and either punches Dennis (if they're drunk enough) or just gives up and does the work (muttering shit about Dennis under his breath the whole time.) But these times, Charlie doesn't fight back at all, either does the work slowly and in silence, or just goes home without a word.

Anyway, it's one of those weeks except Charlie hasn't been in for the last _three_ days, meaning Mac has to go and empty the rat traps - he's hardcore, he's not _scared_ of rats or anything, it's just not his job so he doesn't want to do it - so he decides to go and see what the fuck is up. 

He buzzes the door at around 9, because Dennis has a date and says Dee is going to run the bar tonight, but there's no response. After a couple of minutes, Hwang comes and lets him in and shouts at him for a minute or so before handing him some keys and leaving. Exactly what he said, Mac's not entirely sure, but the keys have the same Lego keyring as Charlie's keys, so he jogs up the stairs and sticks them into the door. 

"It's me, dude, I'm comin' in!" he calls, slowly opening the door. The apartment is completely dark, which isn't completely out of the ordinary for Charlie (who duct tapes his window dark whenever he's occasionally hungover) but this is something different. The air smells stale, as if he hasn't left the apartment since Mac last saw him, but instead of the normal smell of stale beer and food there's just emptiness. "Charlie?" he calls again, but quieter this time, because there was no response before. After a second of adjusting his eyes to the darkness, he sees Charlie on his bed.

Normally, when Charlie wants to hide, he shoves his face into the crevice or even just lies starfished on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. This is completely different in a way Mac doesn't know how to comprehend. The kid looks so, so small curled up in his sheets in the centre of his bed, head buried under his elbows. It's not super warm but Charlie's hair is plastered to his forehead (probably due to the three jumpers he seems to be wearing and the sweats over his pajamas.) "What's goin' on, dude?" he asks, softly, because Charlie's shifting slightly like he's awake and doesn't want to talk to Mac. "Charlie?"

"I'll work tomorrow," he mumbles from the bed, voice hoarse like he's been shouting.

"I- what, dude? No, I wanna know what's wrong," Mac insists, because seeing Charlie's curled up body on his bed made him completely forget why he came here in the first place. "You sick?"

When Charlie doesn't respond, Mac tiptoes over and pushes a hand to his forehead; he recoils from the sweat and moments later Charlie tries to push him away. "'m not sick, 'm overheating."

"Dude, take your jumper off! What the fuck, man?"

"I can't," he half-whispers, and no, Mac doesn't get it at all, but he does hear how deadly serious the voice is so he stays quiet and tries really, really hard to understand. "Don't make me."

"I'm not gonna-" he starts, pausing until Charlie's stomach stops loudly rumbling, "I'm not gonna make you. Have you been eating?"

The man on the bed makes a vague noise, and his stomach grumbles again as if to reiterate his point. Mac sighs, pushes Charlie's hair away from his forehead and pads over to the kitchen to order some pizza from the menu framed on the fridge. 

When he puts the phone down, Charlie sits up and he can finally actually see him. His eyes are bloodshot and quite sunken, a fitting slightly sallow look in his cheeks for someone who hasn't eaten for at least four days. How Charlie hasn't died before, he doesn't know. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"No." Charlie pointedly glares at the disgusting floor and does not meet his eye. 

"You've gotta give me _something_ to work with here, dude."

"Staying _covered_ ," he says through gritted teeth.

Mac is once again in one of those situations that, for whatever reason, he's completely in the dark about what is actually going on with Charlie or how he's supposed to help. Hopefully, he can do what he normally does - go along with it until he naturally figures it out. The only thing is, something about this seems different. This doesn't seem like some kind of drug-fuelled breakdown that's just gonna go away after Charlie finally passes out and sleeps. The pair of them have always prided themselves on their psychic connection, and that's how he knows deep down that something is actually, genuinely _wrong_. 

"How 'bout you take off _some_ of the sweaters?" he reasons - took him a good five minutes to come up with that one - and thankfully, after a minute of internal debate Charlie grunts and pulls two of the three jumpers over his head. Realistically, he's still probably overheating, but this is better than nothing. The apartment has to cool down when the sun goes down, anyway, because Mac'll bet his life in saying Charlie hasn't paid the heat bill. "You been sleeping, dude?"

"Nah."

"Want me to roll a joint?"

"Got no weed."

"I, your God-sent saviour, have _lots_ of weed," Mac grins, and it's this that finally makes Charlie crack a weak smile. Mac eyes up the table and then the bed, trying to let Charlie choose and also aiming for some kind of indication as to how the kid's feeling about personal space. 

"Grab a rolling tray," he instructs, smoothing out the bedsheets and shifting over to make room for Mac. Maybe Charlie still isn't making eye contact and his fingers are bloody from where's been overbiting his nails, but he's smiling a little bit now. 

The pizza guy arrives whilst they're smoking the joint and stays for a few passes instead of asking for a tip. Charlie falls asleep pretty much the second he finishes a whole pizza, slumped onto Mac's crossed leg and snoring softly. He looks sweet, soft hair mussed and and jumper far too big for him, and Mac kind of wants to protect him from everything bad going in the world. He also kind of wants to lie down and curl up around him. Unfortunately, neither of these things are possible, because Mac isn't all powerful or gay, at _all_ , so he settles for something else.

"And what time are we calling this?" asks Dennis from where he's only slightly drunk on the sofa, wearing a slightly ripped t-shirt and thankfully not ripped boxers. 

"Dunno," is his eloquent response, because he's reasonably high and unreasonably tired. "Where's your date?"

"Don't ask," he mutters darkly, reaching over to swig the bottle of nasty red wine he pretends to like ("it's called being _cultured_ you piece of white trash") and sighing dramatically. "Where's yours?"

"Not my date," he says on his way to raid the fridge, mostly by reflex. "Charlie said'll be back tomorrow."

"About god- _damn_ time. I swear, what the fuck do we pay this kid for?"

"If you give him a hard time tomorrow, I'll kick your fucking ass," he swears, because he completely means it. "Don't say _anything_."

"Fucking hell, man, if it's that big of a deal," Dennis says, rolling his eyes as if he doesn't give any shits at all. That's Dennis, though, who'd rather die than admit he cared about anything. It's annoying, but when Mac makes sure to meet his eyes when Charlie comes in to the bar the next morning, he doesn't say a single thing. 

**4.** The fourth time where Mac probably should have put two and two together was four months after that, just after Charlie's twenty-first birthday. 

"Where," Dennis asks, perfectly still and not even blinking, "and I emphasise _where_ , the _**fuck** _have you been?"

Charlie stares for a second before the weird grin resurfaces, the one he's been sporting since he came in without explanation. "It's like, totally a secret, dude."

"Charlie, you've been gone for _two fucking weeks_ ," Mac hisses, uncapping a beer and passing it to him despite his anger. And yeah, he's furious, because he was fucking _worried_ \- even Charlie's landlord didn't fucking know - but he's looking at the stupid smile and he can't stay _completely_ mad because Charlie hasn't looked this relaxedly-happy in _weeks._

"I _demand_ an explanation," Dennis insists, but even Dee has stopped listening in favour of just... looking at Charlie. It's impossible to put a finger on what's different, but his whole like, _aura_ is different. He's standing taller, shoulders wider - come to think of it, this is the first time in a while Mac's seen him look comfortable just standing there. 

"Wanna go for a walk, dude?" he finds himself asking, necking the rest of his beer when Charlie nods. "We'll be back before it gets busy," he promises Dennis, even though they're never busy.

"I'm coming," Dee decides.

"Nah, you're not," Charlie decides in return. Dee pouts and mutters some shit about Mac and Charlie being gay, but Mac's too intrigued to bother disputing it (even though it's not true, obviously.) "Let's roll, dude."

The second the pub door shuts behind them, Charlie stretches his shoulders lightly and Mac sees the echo of a wince on his face before he closes his eyes and grins up at the sun. "Tell me where you've been?" Mac asks, but doesn't demand.

"The hospital dude," he says easily. Everything is kind of easy when it's just the two of them. "I can't tell you why, dude- like, not right now. Soon, I guess? But it's just like-" he pauses, scratches the back of his neck and smiles softly at the asphalt. "I dunno, man. I feel _free_."

"I don't get it, man," Mac starts, and part of him wants to insist on more information, because the hospital is such a loaded place -and is Charlie okay? Like seriously, what the fuck? - but he trusts the _soon_ he's been promised, and he's never cared less about anything if it means Charlie's this happy. "Promise you'll tell me soon?"

" _Dude,_ " Charlie replies indignantly, as if he's _insulted_ Mac would ask such a question. "I'm like. I dunno how to word it." Mac just carries on walking next to him, bumps his shoulder to say _hey, I'm listening._ "I don't think I'm ready yet. It's not- it's not that I don't wanna tell you. I've never told anyone before, y'know? Kinda like you being gay- you guys probably all _know,_ but I'm like, not gonna actually _say_ it until I wanna."

"What? I'm not- you're gay?"

Charlie giggles, freckles highlighted in the sun and Mac feels kind of like he might be sick but in a nice way. "That's not what I meant, dude. I promise I'll tell you soon."

"As long as you tell me before you tell Dennis," he sighs, but he can't help smiling when Charlie leans into him, elbowing him gently.

"'Course, dude. 's always been me 'n you, right?"

For a reason he's not really sure of, Mac reaches out and squeezes Charlie's hand. Were his intentions to let go? It's hard to say. But when Charlie holds on, Mac doesn't mind all that much. 

**5.** Mac doesn't _forget_ the two weeks at the hospital, but he lets it go to rest for about a year. Charlie still gets sad sometimes, and Mac still doesn't quite understand, but compared to how he was this time a year ago- yeah, of course he wants to know where the kid was, and he's still kind of worried that maybe he's got some kind of life threatening illness or something like that, but he also wants Charlie to stay this happy. He didn't get it last year, when it was compared to him being gay (he didn't get it because he didn't _want_ to) but he kind of does now. 

From his understanding, it's like this: he's always been gay, he guesses, but Dennis telling everyone about it didn't make him believe it any more. Then he was like, kind of sure, but then he wasn't sure he wanted to tell anyone that he was sure, and that was a whole internal-crisis thing. He didn't have to wait until he was _sure_ to tell everyone, but until he was comfortable with everyone knowing. Even though it's probably not the same with Charlie, because he didn't go to the hospital to become gay, he figures the same principle applies. Whatever it is, Charlie probably isn't ready to talk about it, and even though he kinda really, _really_ wants to know, Mac's gonna let the kid do his thing. Give it like, another month or so before he brings it up again because his impatience will eventually outweigh his respect. 

Dennis clearly feels no such obligations, nor any respect. Every single Monday shift, without fail, he opens a beer for them all and says _so, remember when Charlie disappeared for two weeks and none of us know where he went?_ At first, Frank and Dee were on board in the subtle harassment, but as Charlie got increasingly annoyed they increasingly lost interest to the point where now, Charlie doesn't even have to tell him to fuck off; everyone else tells Dennis to shut up before he can even open his mouth. So every Monday goes something like this - Charlie cleans the bar and sits down for a beer, Dennis pesters him whilst dutifully ignoring everyone else around him telling him to shut the fuck up and then Charlie either goes in to the back office or Mac threatens to beat Dennis into silence and he shuts up. (Dee says this is because he was so used to Mac being uncontrollably and unconditionally in love with him, that any stance of defiance is still actually having an impact due to Dennis being unable to comprehend that anyone could ever stop loving him. Dee also says he's clearly in love with Charlie, though, which is clearly bullshit.)

So, it's a Monday evening, and Charlie is particularly irritable because someone pissed all over the floor in the bathroom the night before and he'd spent all afternoon trying to get the smell of piss out of it - not completely, because the men's bathroom at Paddy's has smelt like piss since the beginning of creation and will until the end of time, but at least partially. It kind of worked, only now there's enough bleach floating around the room that the only person who can open their eyes in there without burning their retinas is Charlie, who has an inhumane bleach tolerance. 

Like, on a serious note, how isn't this kid dead yet?

And Dennis, taking due note of Charlie's irritability, decides to say "so, remember when Charlie disappeared for two weeks and didn't tell us where he was?"

"Oh my fucking _god_ , dude!" Charlie yells, slamming his beer bottle down onto the bar, where it inevitably smashes, cutting his hand. "Remember when you _moved_ to North fucking _Dakota_? And then you came back with like, no explanation? Because you're a fucking baby-daddy white trash piece of shit?" One of the drunks in the corner of the bar coughs. Dennis blanks, clearly not really sure where to go from here. "Well, y'know what? You wanna fuckin' know what?" Charlie snaps, apparently not done. "I was maybe gonna talk about it soon, but now I'm _just_ gonna tell Mac! I'm gonna tell Mac, and neither of us are ever, _ever_ gonna say _anything_ to _you_!" Kind of unsure what's going on, Mac downs the rest of his beer and stands up, grinning warily at Dennis' slowly reddening face. 

"We've been supporting you this whole time, Charlie? You're not gonna tell us?" Dee frowns.

Charlie stands up, attempting to down his beer and instead nearly cutting his lip because all that's left is the neck of the bottle. "Nah, but like- you guys already admitted you don't care. Besides, you get to like, watch Dennis lose his mind for the whole night, and you can take the piss of him for it? Also, I'll give you five bucks."

"Done deal," Frank decides, holding his hand out for the money. Dennis' jaw is shaking and even though that kind of anger would have broken Mac a year ago, he's nearly struggling not to laugh. "Get outta here before Dennis blows his top."

And well, he doesn't need to say it twice. 

Mac tips the pizza guy to give them a lift back to Charlie's apartment because it's already dark out meaning not only is it freezing, but there's probably between eight and forty crack heads around the area he lives that are ready to stab passersby at any given time. Weirdly, Charlie's pretty relaxed the whole car ride there, chatting to Mac and the pizza guy and anyone who will listen about the look on Dennis' face, as if he hasn't just changed Mac's world by telling him whatever he's about to tell him. He carries on talking all the way up the stairs and into the apartment, with Mac actually wanting to listen 'cause he _loves_ hearing Charlie chat shit about stuff he likes, but he can't focus on any of the words coming out of his mouth.

"Charlie," he finds himself blurting out as Charlie shuts the apartment door behind him. When Charlie doesn't respond, Mac's feet move on autopilot and he's pouring them shots of Pickle Tequila they made a couple months ago to cope with the tension in the room. Because he's a walking unit, Charlie clears his glass within seconds before chugging the bottle for probably too long as Mac slowly, _slowly_ clears his own shot. "If you've changed your mind, I don't care, dude. I'll pretend I know if you wanna keep pissing off Dennis." 

"Nah," Charlie insists, but the laugh that follows it is nervous and sounds forced, and when Mac pours him another shot it's gone before he puts the bottle down. "I'm, uh." Mac blinks up at him, trying his best to have a supportive face on. "You look kind of like, in pain, dude."

"No! I- goddamnit, Charlie, I'm tryna be supportive here."

"I dunno how to say it, dude! I'm- I'm just gonna take my shirt off, and then you can- yeah," he decides, and his hands are shaking as he unbuttons his jacket but Mac's too busy being confused at why this is happening to tell him to stop. The jacket falls to the floor and Charlie swigs the bottle for good measure. "Here goes nothin'- well, everything, kinda," he mutters, and then the shirt is being pulled over his head.

Under each nipple is a curved scar, soft but still red and undeniably there.

"Did you get stabbed, dude?"

Charlie lets out some kind of surprised laugh, but he doesn't relax at all, meaning Mac is almost definitely wrong. "No, dude. There were like, boobs on my chest, so I got rid of them. That's why I was in hospital. There was like, surgery 'n shit, and bedrest."

"There were - what? You- I- _oh_ ," is his eloquent response, and then, just for good measure, " _oh._ " But then Charlie crosses his arms over his chest defensively, and Mac remembers how happy he was when he got back from the hospital and decides even if this is kind of weird, Charlie deserves to be happy, so he's going to try really hard. "So you're like, a tranny? But like, the opposite of Carmen?" 

Charlie shrugs, pulls his shirt back on. "Like, yeah. But also like, I'm not a tranny, I'm Charlie." The words come out in a weird tone, something Mac recognises and doesn't like to hear coming from Charlie at all. It's kind of defensive, in the way he's picking at his now bleeding-again hand and half-glaring at the linoleum. But moreso, it's kind of scared, like he's dreading Mac saying the wrong thing. Mac might be an idiot, but he's not _stupid_ \- he understands the weight of this situation, how important it is to Charlie and how important it is that he says the right thing.

"Yeah dude, I know. You're still like, a guy."

"Yeah, I know," Charlie says, but he's kind of smiling now, and when Mac replaces the pickle tequila (disgusting, now that the aftertaste won't leave his mouth) with two beers, he cheers's him excitedly. "That was like, super scary telling you, but I don't really get how you never noticed."

"I just thought you like, really hated being naked. Like, that's why you always skipped gym in school and shit like that."

"You're a fuckin' _idiot_ , man."

"And what, dude? You _love_ it."

 **+1.** The next day, an average Tuesday, isn't any different to any other Tuesday, except it's the best day of Mac's life. 

Deep down, he thinks he's always been in love with Charlie in some way or another. It wasn't Charlie coming out that made him realise this, though; he's still the same Charlie (a dude) and Mac is still gay (only attracted to dudes.) Or, it kind of was, but it's not the fact that he's trans but rather the action of coming out. When Mac saw the look on his face, the look of _please accept me,_ he had never felt so deeply _cared_ about and that realisation in itself made him realise that he will never care about anyone's opinion as much as Charlie's. He will never care about anyone at all as much as he cares about Charlie. So, he does what any rational person would do. He decides to tell him. 

_Hey, Charlie._

_Don't worry, I know you probably can't read all the words in this. Call me if you want, and I'll read it to you._

_When you came out to me, I realised that you're the only person in my life who has trusted me with everything. Equally, you're the only person in my life that I could trust with anything. I want you to know that I'm not saying this because you're trans (sorry about calling you a tranny when you told me, I'm working on not saying shit like that) because you're still exactly the same person to me. Nothing you ever do could change anything for me. We're always going to be Mac and Charlie._

_You're my best friend, but I think you're my soulmate too. I know that's really gay, and if you don't feel the same then don't worry. I was reading up about souls and soulmates and shit like that last night, and I think it works like you can be my soulmate even if I'm not yours. I don't care if you like, end up marrying the waitress if that's what you really want, but I know you're my soulmate anyway. I love you with literally everything I have. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's everywhere. It's this feeling in my chest whenever I make you laugh, and the way my stomach goes all funny when you bump my shoulder. I know it's dumb. I just thought, since we were being honest and stuff, I kinda owed you one for trusting me with something you've kept secret your whole life._

_So, here's my secret._

_Love from Mac._

It takes him a while to write it neatly, because he really wants Charlie to be able to read it and his handwriting is infamously shit. Once it's done, he pins it up on the outside of Charlie's apartment door (he'd slip it under the door, but Charlie doesn't trust mail and burns it without reading it,) knocks and then leaves, because even though he's living his best life he's still feeling like a little bit of a pussy. 

Charlie doesn't call all morning, or afternoon or even evening, and Mac's kind of glad that Dennis is on an E-comedown (apparently dual rejection from both Mac and Charlie was officially too much for him) and claimed tonight to be a closed-bar night, because he doesn't think he could handle having to work alongside Charlie all night without saying anything. Once he's slept on it and had a night to accept that his love and soulmatery is unrequited, he'll be fine. The wound is just still a little bit fresh. 

Dennis is groaning every few minutes, and Mac can feel that he's about to make him do _stuff_ like get him water, stuff he doesn't want to do, so he lies back on the sofa and pretends to be asleep. He knows Kill Bill like it's his own life story, so it's not like he needs to watch it.

"-w did you get in?" Dennis is asking, and it turns out Mac may actually have fallen asleep in attempt of avoiding household chores. The sun had just been starting to set when he'd closed his eyes, but it's pitch black in the room now and his eyes take a minute to adjust. Also, Charlie is standing in front of the open apartment door, holding Mac's letter in a shaky fist.

"Mac," he says, voice measured in a rare and subsequently terrifying occurrence. "Can I speak to you in private?"

Not trusting himself to say real words, Mac gets up all-wobbly and leads the other man into his bedroom and puts all of his waking energy into not losing his mind. The second the door closes behind him, Charlie's inches from his face, holding the letter up in the air. "Does this say what I think it says?"

"You can't really read, so I have no idea what you think it says."

"Are you in love with me, dude?"

Mac shrugs, trying to read the expression on Charlie's face but also trying to seem like he's not doing that. "Like, yeah. It's totally cool that you don't feel the same way, though- just forget it, I promise it-"

Charlie drops the letter, grabs Mac by the muscle shirt and kisses him. For a split second, his mind short-circuits through _ischarliekissingme doesthatmeanhelikesme whatamisupposedtodo_ but then he kisses him back, fists a hand in his hair and kisses him like it's all he's ever wanted to do. In a way, it is, and it's everything he imagined it would be. Charlie's lips are soft and he's kissing Mac _hard_ , and Mac is going to give him _everything_ , the whole wide fucking world if he can. 

After a minute of exchanging kisses, as well as what sounds like Dennis awkwardly coughing in the living room, Mac leans back against the door for air. "So, you like me back then?"

"Dude," Charlie says, and there's a front of exasperation that doesn't work over the badly suppressed giggle, "you're such a dumb gay idiot."

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and comments if you like it!


End file.
